4.1 Enter two Gentlemen, meeting one another.

1 GENTLEMAN     You’re well met once again.
2 GENTLEMAN     So are you.
1 GENTLEMAN
You come to take your stand here and behold
The Lady Anne pass from her coronation?
2 GENTLEMAN
’Tis all my business. At our last encounter,
The Duke of Buckingham came from his trial.	5
1 GENTLEMAN
’Tis very true. But that time offered sorrow,
This, general joy.
2 GENTLEMAN     ’Tis well. The citizens,
I am sure, have shown at full their royal minds –
As, let ’em have their rights, they are ever forward –
In celebration of this day with shows,	10
Pageants, and sights of honour.
1 GENTLEMAN     Never greater,
Nor, I’ll assure you, better taken, sir.
2 GENTLEMAN
May I be bold to ask what that contains,
That paper in your hand?
1 GENTLEMAN     Yes, ’tis the list
Of those that claim their offices this day	15
By custom of the coronation.
The Duke of Suffolk is the first, and claims
To be High Steward; next, the Duke of Norfolk,
He to be Earl Marshal. You may read the rest.
2 GENTLEMAN
I thank you, sir. Had I not known those customs,	20
I should have been beholding to your paper.
But I beseech you, what’s become of Katherine,
The Princess Dowager? How goes her business?
1 GENTLEMAN
That I can tell you too. The Archbishop
Of Canterbury, accompanied with other	25
Learned and reverend fathers of his order,
Held a late court at Dunstable, six miles off
From Ampthill, where the Princess lay; to which
She was often cited by them, but appeared not;
And, to be short, for not appearance and	30
The King’s late scruple, by the main assent
Of all these learned men, she was divorced,
And the late marriage made of none effect;
Since which she was removed to Kimbolton,
Where she remains now sick.
2 GENTLEMAN     Alas, good lady. [Trumpets.]	35
The trumpets sound. Stand close. The Queen is coming.
The order of the coronation
1 A lively flourish of trumpets.
2 Then, two judges.
3 Lord CHANCELLOR, with purse and mace before him.
4 Choristers singing. Music.	36.5
5 Mayor of London, bearing the mace. Then GARTER, in his
coat of arms, and on his head he wears a gilt copper crown.
6 Marquess Dorset, bearing a sceptre of gold, on his head a
demi-coronal of gold. With him the Earl of SURREY,
bearing the rod of silver with the dove, crowned with an	36.10
earl’s coronet. Collars of esses.
7 Duke of SUFFOLK, in his robe of estate, his coronet on his
head, bearing a long white wand, as High Steward. With
him, the Duke of NORFOLK, with the rod of marshalship,
a coronet on his head. Collars of esses.	36.15
8 A canopy, borne by four of the Cinque Ports; under it, the
Queen ANNE in her robe, in her hair, richly adorned with
pearl; crowned. On each side her, the Bishops of London
and Winchester.
9 The old Duchess of Norfolk, in a coronal of gold wrought	36.20
with flowers, bearing the Queen’s train.
10 Certain ladies or countesses, with plain circlets of gold
without flowers.
Exeunt, first passing over the stage in order and state,
and then a great flourish of trumpets.
2 GENTLEMAN     A royal train, believe me. These I know.
Who’s that that bears the sceptre?
1 GENTLEMAN     Marquess Dorset,
And that the Earl of Surrey with the rod.
2 GENTLEMAN
A bold brave gentleman. That should be	40
The Duke of Suffolk.
1 GENTLEMAN     ’Tis the same: High Steward.
2 GENTLEMAN     And that my lord of Norfolk?
1 GENTLEMAN     Yes.
2 GENTLEMAN [Sees Anne.]     Heaven bless thee!
Thou hast the sweetest face I ever looked on.
Sir, as I have a soul, she is an angel.
Our King has all the Indies in his arms,	45
And more, and richer, when he strains that lady.
I cannot blame his conscience.
1 GENTLEMAN     They that bear
The cloth of honour over her are four barons
Of the Cinque Ports.
2 GENTLEMAN
Those men are happy, and so are all are near her.	50
I take it she that carries up the train
Is that old noble lady, Duchess of Norfolk?
1 GENTLEMAN     It is, and the rest are countesses.
2 GENTLEMAN
Their coronets say so. These are stars indeed –
1 GENTLEMAN     And sometimes falling ones.
2 GENTLEMAN     No more of that.	55
Enter a Third Gentleman.
1 GENTLEMAN
God save you, sir. Where have you been broiling?
3 GENTLEMAN
Among the crowd i’th’ Abbey, where a finger
Could not be wedged in more. I am stifled
With the mere rankness of their joy.
2 GENTLEMAN     You saw
The ceremony?
3 GENTLEMAN     That I did.
1 GENTLEMAN     How was it?	60
3 GENTLEMAN     Well worth the seeing.
2 GENTLEMAN     Good sir, speak it to us.
3 GENTLEMAN     As well as I am able. The rich stream
Of lords and ladies, having brought the Queen
To a prepared place in the choir, fell off
A distance from her, while her grace sat down	65
To rest a while – some half an hour or so –
In a rich chair of state, opposing freely
The beauty of her person to the people –
Believe me, sir, she is the goodliest woman
That ever lay by man – which when the people	70
Had the full view of, such a noise arose
As the shrouds make at sea in a stiff tempest,
As loud and to as many tunes. Hats, cloaks –
Doublets, I think – flew up, and had their faces
Been loose, this day they had been lost. Such joy	75
I never saw before. Great-bellied women
That had not half a week to go, like rams
In the old time of war, would shake the press
And make ’em reel before ’em. No man living
Could say ‘This is my wife’ there, all were woven	80
So strangely in one piece.
2 GENTLEMAN     But what followed?
3 GENTLEMAN
At length her grace rose, and with modest paces
Came to the altar, where she kneeled and, saint-like,
Cast her fair eyes to heaven and prayed devoutly;
Then rose again and bowed her to the people,	85
When by the Archbishop of Canterbury
She had all the royal makings of a queen,
As holy oil, Edward Confessor’s crown,
The rod, and bird of peace, and all such emblems
Laid nobly on her; which performed, the choir,	90
With all the choicest music of the kingdom,
Together sung Te Deum. So she parted,
And with the same full state paced back again
To York Place, where the feast is held.
1 GENTLEMAN     Sir,
You must no more call it ‘York Place’ – that’s past;	95
For since the Cardinal fell, that title’s lost.
’Tis now the King’s, and called ‘Whitehall’.
3 GENTLEMAN     I know it,
But ’tis so lately altered that the old name
Is fresh about me.
2 GENTLEMAN     What two reverend bishops
Were those that went on each side of the Queen?	100
3 GENTLEMAN
Stokesley and Gardiner, the one of Winchester,
Newly preferred from the King’s secretary;
The other, London.
2 GENTLEMAN     He of Winchester
Is held no great good lover of the Archbishop’s,
The virtuous Cranmer.
3 GENTLEMAN     All the land knows that.	105
However, yet there is no great breach. When it comes,
Cranmer will find a friend will not shrink from him.
2 GENTLEMAN     Who may that be, I pray you?
3 GENTLEMAN     Thomas Cromwell,
A man in much esteem wi’th’ King, and truly
A worthy friend. The King has made him	110
Master o’th’ Jewel House,
And one already of the Privy Council.
2 GENTLEMAN     He will deserve more.
3 GENTLEMAN     Yes, without all doubt.
Come, gentlemen, ye shall go my way,
Which is to th’ court, and there ye shall be my guests:	115
Something I can command. As I walk thither
I’ll tell ye more.
1 & 2 GENTLEMEN You may command us, sir. Exeunt.

4.2 Enter KATHERINE Dowager, sick, led between GRIFFITH, her gentleman usher, and PATIENCE, her woman.

GRIFFITH     How does your grace?
KATHERINE     O Griffith, sick to death.
My legs like loaden branches bow to th’earth,
Willing to leave their burden. Reach a chair. [Sits.]
So. Now, methinks, I feel a little ease.
Didst thou not tell me, Griffith, as thou leddest me,	5
That the great child of honour, Cardinal Wolsey,
Was dead?
GRIFFITH     Yes, madam, but I think your grace,
Out of the pain you suffered, gave no ear to’t.
KATHERINE
Prithee, good Griffith, tell me how he died.
If well, he stepped before me happily	10
For my example.
GRIFFITH     Well, the voice goes, madam.
For after the stout Earl Northumberland
Arrested him at York and brought him forward,
As a man sorely tainted, to his answer,
He fell sick suddenly and grew so ill	15
He could not sit his mule.
KATHERINE     Alas, poor man.
GRIFFITH
At last, with easy roads, he came to Leicester;
Lodged in the abbey, where the reverend abbot,
With all his convent, honourably received him;
To whom he gave these words: ‘O father abbot,	20
An old man, broken with the storms of state,
Is come to lay his weary bones among ye.
Give him a little earth, for charity.’
So went to bed, where eagerly his sickness
Pursued him still, and three nights after this,	25
About the hour of eight, which he himself
Foretold should be his last, full of repentance,
Continual meditations, tears and sorrows,
He gave his honours to the world again,
His blessed part to heaven, and slept in peace.	30
KATHERINE
So may he rest: his faults lie gently on him.
Yet thus far, Griffith, give me leave to speak him,
And yet with charity. He was a man
Of an unbounded stomach, ever ranking
Himself with princes; one that by suggestion	35
Tied all the kingdom. Simony was fair play.
His own opinion was his law. I’th’ presence
He would say untruths, and be ever double
Both in his words and meaning. He was never,
But where he meant to ruin, pitiful.	40
His promises were as he then was, mighty;
But his performance, as he is now, nothing.
Of his own body he was ill, and gave
The clergy ill example.
GRIFFITH     Noble madam,
Men’s evil manners live in brass, their virtues	45
We write in water. May it please your highness
To hear me speak his good now?
KATHERINE     Yes, good Griffith;
I were malicious else.
GRIFFITH     This Cardinal,
Though from an humble stock, undoubtedly
Was fashioned to much honour. From his cradle	50
He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one,
Exceeding wise, fair-spoken and persuading;
Lofty and sour to them that loved him not,
But to those men that sought him, sweet as summer.
And though he were unsatisfied in getting –	55
Which was a sin – yet in bestowing, madam,
He was most princely: ever witness for him
Those twins of learning that he raised in you,
Ipswich and Oxford – one of which fell with him,
Unwilling to outlive the good that did it;	60
The other, though unfinished, yet so famous,
So excellent in art, and still so rising,
That Christendom shall ever speak his virtue.
His overthrow heaped happiness upon him,
For then, and not till then, he felt himself,	65
And found the blessedness of being little.
And, to add greater honours to his age
Than man could give him, he died fearing God.
KATHERINE     After my death I wish no other herald,
No other speaker of my living actions,	70
To keep mine honour from corruption
But such an honest chronicler as Griffith.
Whom I most hated living, thou hast made me,
With thy religious truth and modesty,
Now in his ashes honour. Peace be with him.	75
Patience, be near me still, and set me lower.
I have not long to trouble thee. Good Griffith,
Cause the musicians play me that sad note
I named my knell, whilst I sit meditating
On that celestial harmony I go to.
[Sad and solemn music.]	80
GRIFFITH
She is asleep. Good wench, let’s sit down quiet,
For fear we wake her. Softly, gentle Patience.
The vision
Enter, solemnly tripping one after another, six
personages, clad in white robes, wearing on their heads
garlands of bays, and golden vizards on their faces,
branches of bays or palm in their hands. They first	82.5
congé unto her, then dance; and at certain changes, the
first two hold a spare garland over her head, at which
the other four make reverend curtsies. Then the two
that held the garland deliver the same to the other next
two, who observe the same order in their changes and	82.10
holding the garland over her head. Which done, they
deliver the same garland to the last two, who likewise
observe the same order. At which (as it were by
inspiration) she makes in her sleep signs of rejoicing and
holdeth up her hands to heaven. And so, in their	82.15
dancing, vanish, carrying the garland with them.
The music continues.
KATHERINE
Spirits of peace, where are ye? Are ye all gone,
And leave me here in wretchedness behind ye?
GRIFFITH     Madam, we are here.
KATHERINE     It is not you I call for.	85
Saw ye none enter since I slept?
GRIFFITH     None, madam.
KATHERINE     No? Saw you not even now a blessed troop
Invite me to a banquet, whose bright faces
Cast thousand beams upon me, like the sun?
They promised me eternal happiness	90
And brought me garlands, Griffith, which I feel
I am not worthy yet to wear. I shall, assuredly.
GRIFFITH     I am most joyful, madam, such good dreams
Possess your fancy.
KATHERINE     Bid the music leave.
They are harsh and heavy to me.     [Music ceases.]
PATIENCE     Do you note	95
How much her grace is altered on the sudden?
How long her face is drawn? How pale she looks,
And of an earthy cold? Mark her eyes.
GRIFFITH     She is going, wench. Pray, pray.
PATIENCE     Heaven comfort her.
Enter a Messenger.
MESSENGER     An’t like your grace –
KATHERINE     You are a saucy fellow.	100
Deserve we no more reverence?
GRIFFITH [to the Messenger]     You are to blame,
Knowing she will not lose her wonted greatness,
To use so rude behaviour. Go to, kneel.
MESSENGER
I humbly do entreat your highness’ pardon.
My haste made me unmannerly. There is staying	105
A gentleman sent from the King to see you.
KATHERINE
Admit him entrance, Griffith. But this fellow
Let me ne’er see again.     Exit Messenger.
Enter Lord CAPUTIUS.
If my sight fail not,
You should be lord ambassador from the Emperor,
My royal nephew, and your name Caputius.	110
CAPUTIUS     Madam, the same. Your servant.
KATHERINE     O my lord,
The times and titles now are altered strangely
With me since first you knew me. But I pray you,
What is your pleasure with me?
CAPUTIUS     Noble lady,
First, mine own service to your grace; the next,	115
The King’s request that I would visit you,
Who grieves much for your weakness and by me
Sends you his princely commendations
And heartily entreats you take good comfort.
KATHERINE
O my good lord, that comfort comes too late;	120
’Tis like a pardon after execution.
That gentle physic given in time had cured me,
But now I am past all comforts here but prayers.
How does his highness?
CAPUTIUS     Madam, in good health.
KATHERINE     So may he ever do, and ever flourish	125
When I shall dwell with worms and my poor name
Banished the kingdom. Patience, is that letter
I caused you write yet sent away?
PATIENCE     No, madam.
KATHERINE     Sir, I most humbly pray you to deliver
This to my lord the King.
CAPUTIUS     Most willing, madam.	130
KATHERINE
In which I have commended to his goodness
The model of our chaste loves, his young daughter –
The dews of heaven fall thick in blessings on her! –
Beseeching him to give her virtuous breeding –
She is young and of a noble, modest nature;	135
I hope she will deserve well – and a little
To love her for her mother’s sake that loved him,
Heaven knows how dearly. My next poor petition
Is that his noble grace would have some pity
Upon my wretched women, that so long	140
Have followed both my fortunes faithfully;
Of which there is not one, I dare avow –
And now I should not lie – but will deserve,
For virtue and true beauty of the soul,
For honesty and decent carriage,	145
A right good husband – let him be a noble –
And sure those men are happy that shall have ’em.
The last is for my men – they are the poorest,
But poverty could never draw ’em from me –
That they may have their wages duly paid ’em,	150
And something over to remember me by.
If heaven had pleased to have given me longer life
And able means, we had not parted thus.
These are the whole contents, and, good my lord,
By that you love the dearest in this world,	155
As you wish Christian peace to souls departed,
Stand these poor people’s friend, and urge the King
To do me this last right.
CAPUTIUS     By heaven, I will,
Or let me lose the fashion of a man.
KATHERINE     I thank you, honest lord. Remember me	160
In all humility unto his highness.
Say his long trouble now is passing
Out of this world. Tell him in death I blessed him,
For so I will. Mine eyes grow dim. Farewell,
My lord. Griffith, farewell. Nay, Patience,	165
You must not leave me yet: I must to bed.
Call in more women. When I am dead, good wench,
Let me be used with honour. Strew me over
With maiden flowers, that all the world may know
I was a chaste wife to my grave. Embalm me,	170
Then lay me forth. Although unqueened, yet like
A queen and daughter to a king inter me.
I can no more.     Exeunt leading Katherine.

5.1 Enter GARDINER, Bishop of Winchester, a Page with a torch before him, met by Sir Thomas LOVELL.

GARDINER     It’s one o’clock, boy, is’t not?
PAGE     It hath struck.
GARDINER     These should be hours for necessities,
Not for delights; times to repair our nature
With comforting repose, and not for us
To waste these times. Good hour of the night, Sir Thomas.	5
Whither so late?
LOVELL     Came you from the King, my lord?
GARDINER
I did, Sir Thomas, and left him at primero
With the Duke of Suffolk.
LOVELL     I must to him, too,
Before he go to bed. I’ll take my leave.
GARDINER
Not yet, Sir Thomas Lovell. What’s the matter?	10
It seems you are in haste. And if there be
No great offence belongs to’t, give your friend
Some touch of your late business. Affairs that walk,
As they say spirits do, at midnight have
In them a wilder nature than the business	15
That seeks dispatch by day.
LOVELL     My lord, I love you,
And durst commend a secret to your ear
Much weightier than this work. The Queen’s in labour –
They say in great extremity, and feared
She’ll with the labour end.
GARDINER     The fruit she goes with	20
I pray for heartily, that it may find
Good time, and live. But, for the stock, Sir Thomas,
I wish it grubbed up now.
LOVELL     Methinks I could
Cry the amen, and yet my conscience says
She’s a good creature and, sweet lady, does	25
Deserve our better wishes.
GARDINER     But sir, sir –
Hear me, Sir Thomas. You’re a gentleman
Of mine own way. I know you wise, religious,
And let me tell you, it will ne’er be well –
’Twill not, Sir Thomas Lovell, take’t of me –	30
Till Cranmer, Cromwell (her two hands) and she
Sleep in their graves.
LOVELL     Now, sir, you speak of two
The most remarked i’th’ kingdom. As for Cromwell,
Beside that of the Jewel House, is made Master
O’th’ Rolls and the King’s secretary; further, sir,	35
Stands in the gap and trade of more preferments,
With which the time will load him. Th’Archbishop
Is the King’s hand and tongue, and who dare speak
One syllable against him?
GARDINER     Yes, yes, Sir Thomas,
There are that dare, and I myself have ventured	40
To speak my mind of him; and indeed this day,
Sir – I may tell it you, I think – I have
Incensed the lords o’th’ Council that he is –
For so I know he is, they know he is –
A most arch heretic, a pestilence	45
That does infect the land; with which they, moved,
Have broken with the King, who hath so far
Given ear to our complaint, of his great grace
And princely care foreseeing those fell mischiefs
Our reasons laid before him, hath commanded	50
Tomorrow morning to the Council board
He be convented. He’s a rank weed, Sir Thomas,
And we must root him out. From your affairs
I hinder you too long. Good night, Sir Thomas.
LOVELL
Many good nights, my lord. I rest your servant.	55
Exeunt Gardiner and Page.
Enter KING and SUFFOLK.
KING     Charles, I will play no more tonight:
My mind’s not on’t. You are too hard for me.
SUFFOLK     Sir, I did never win of you before.
KING     But little, Charles,
Nor shall not, when my fancy’s on my play.	60
Now, Lovell, from the Queen what is the news?
LOVELL     I could not personally deliver to her
What you commanded me, but by her woman
I sent your message, who returned her thanks
In the greatest humbleness and desired your highness	65
Most heartily to pray for her.
KING     What sayest thou? Ha?
To pray for her? What, is she crying out?
LOVELL
So said her woman, and that her sufferance made
Almost each pang a death.
KING     Alas, good lady.
SUFFOLK     God safely quit her of her burden, and	70
With gentle travail, to the gladding of
Your highness with an heir.
KING     ’Tis midnight, Charles.
Prithee to bed, and in thy prayers remember
Th’estate of my poor Queen. Leave me alone,
For I must think of that which company	75
Would not be friendly to.
SUFFOLK     I wish your highness
A quiet night, and my good mistress will
Remember in my prayers.
KING     Charles, good night.
Exit Suffolk.
Enter Sir Anthony DENNY.
Well, sir, what follows?
DENNY     Sir, I have brought my lord the Archbishop,	80
As you commanded me.
KING     Ha? Canterbury?
DENNY     Ay, my good lord.
KING     ’Tis true. Where is he, Denny?
DENNY     He attends your highness’ pleasure.
KING     Bring him to us. Exit Denny.
LOVELL [aside]
This is about that which the Bishop spake.
I am happily come hither.	85
Enter CRANMER and DENNY.
KING     Avoid the gallery! [Lovell seems to stay.]
Ha? I have said. Be gone.
What?     Exeunt Lovell and Denny.
CRANMER     [aside] I am fearful. Wherefore frowns he thus?
’Tis his aspect of terror. All’s not well.
KING     How now, my lord? You do desire to know
Wherefore I sent for you.
CRANMER [Kneels.]     It is my duty	90
T’attend your highness’ pleasure.
KING     Pray you, arise,
My good and gracious lord of Canterbury.
Come, you and I must walk a turn together:
I have news to tell you. Come, come: give me your hand.
Ah, my good lord, I grieve at what I speak,	95
And am right sorry to repeat what follows.
I have, and most unwillingly, of late
Heard many grievous – I do say, my lord,
Grievous – complaints of you, which, being considered,
Have moved us and our Council that you shall	100
This morning come before us, where I know
You cannot with such freedom purge yourself
But that, till further trial in those charges
Which will require your answer, you must take
Your patience to you and be well contented	105
To make your house our Tower. You a brother of us,
It fits we thus proceed, or else no witness
Would come against you.
CRANMER [Kneels.]     I humbly thank your highness,
And am right glad to catch this good occasion
Most throughly to be winnowed, where my chaff	110
And corn shall fly asunder. For I know
There’s none stands under more calumnious tongues
Than I myself, poor man.
KING     Stand up, good Canterbury.
Thy truth and thy integrity is rooted
In us, thy friend. Give me thy hand. Stand up.	115
Prithee, let’s walk. Now, by my halidom,
What manner of man are you? My lord, I looked
You would have given me your petition that
I should have ta’en some pains to bring together
Yourself and your accusers and to have heard you	120
Without endurance further.
CRANMER     Most dread liege,
The good I stand on is my truth and honesty.
If they shall fail, I with mine enemies
Will triumph o’er my person, which I weigh not
Being of those virtues vacant. I fear nothing	125
What can be said against me.
KING     Know you not
How your state stands i’th’ world, with the whole world?
Your enemies are many and not small: their practices
Must bear the same proportion, and not ever
The justice and the truth o’th’ question carries	130
The due o’th’ verdict with it. At what ease
Might corrupt minds procure knaves as corrupt
To swear against you? Such things have been done.
You are potently opposed, and with a malice
Of as great size. Ween you of better luck –	135
I mean in perjured witness – than your master,
Whose minister you are, whiles here he lived
Upon this naughty earth? Go to, go to:
You take a precipice for no leap of danger,
And woo your own destruction.
CRANMER     God and your majesty	140
Protect mine innocence, or I fall into
The trap is laid for me.
KING     Be of good cheer.
They shall no more prevail than we give way to.
Keep comfort to you, and this morning see
You do appear before them. If they shall chance,	145
In charging you with matters, to commit you,
The best persuasions to the contrary
Fail not to use, and with what vehemency
Th’occasion shall instruct you. If entreaties
Will render you no remedy, this ring	150
Deliver them, and your appeal to us
There make before them. – Look, the good man weeps.
He’s honest, on mine honour. God’s blest mother,
I swear he is true-hearted, and a soul
None better in my kingdom. – Get you gone,	155
And do as I have bid you.     Exit Cranmer.
He has strangled
His language in his tears.
Enter Old Lady; LOVELL follows.
LOVELL [within]     Come back! What mean you?
OLD LADY     I’ll not come back. The tidings that I bring
Will make my boldness manners. [to the King] Now good angels
Fly o’er thy royal head and shade thy person	160
Under their blessed wings.
KING     Now by thy looks
I guess thy message. Is the Queen delivered?
Say ‘Ay, and of a boy’.
OLD LADY     Ay, ay, my liege,
And of a lovely boy. The God of heaven
Both now and ever bless her: ’tis a girl	165
Promises boys hereafter. Sir, your Queen
Desires your visitation and to be
Acquainted with this stranger. ’Tis as like you
As cherry is to cherry.
KING     Lovell.
LOVELL     Sir?
KING     Give her an hundred marks. I’ll to the Queen.	170
Exeunt King and Lovell.
OLD LADY
An hundred marks? By this light, I’ll ha’ more.
An ordinary groom is for such payment.
I will have more or scold it out of him.
Said I for this the girl was like to him? I’ll
Have more, or else unsay’t; and now, while ’tis hot,	175
I’ll put it to the issue.
Exit Old Lady.

5.2 Enter CRANMER, Archbishop of Canterbury.

CRANMER
I hope I am not too late, and yet the gentleman
That was sent to me from the Council prayed me
To make great haste. All fast? What means this? Ho!
Who waits there?
Enter [Door] Keeper.
Sure you know me?
KEEPER     Yes, my lord,
But yet I cannot help you.
CRANMER     Why?
KEEPER     Your grace	5
Must wait till you be called for.
Enter Doctor BUTTS.
CRANMER     So.
BUTTS [aside]     This is a piece of malice. I am glad
I came this way so happily. The King
Shall understand it presently.     Exit Butts.
CRANMER [aside]     ’Tis Butts,
The King’s physician. As he passed along,	10
How earnestly he cast his eyes upon me.
Pray heaven he sound not my disgrace. For certain,
This is of purpose laid by some that hate me –
God turn their hearts: I never sought their malice –
To quench mine honour. They would shame to make me	15
Wait else at door, a fellow Councillor
’Mong boys, grooms and lackeys. But their pleasures
Must be fulfilled, and I attend with patience.
Enter the KING and BUTTS at a window above.
BUTTS     I’ll show your grace the strangest sight –
KING     What’s that, Butts?
BUTTS
– I think your highness saw this many a day.	20
KING     Body o’me, where is it?
BUTTS     There, my lord:
The high promotion of his grace of Canterbury,
Who holds his state at door ’mongst pursuivants,
Pages and footboys.
KING     Ha? ’Tis he indeed.
Is this the honour they do one another?	25
’Tis well there’s one above ’em yet. I had thought
They had parted so much honesty among ’em –
At least good manners – as not thus to suffer
A man of his place, and so near our favour,
To dance attendance on their lordships’ pleasures –	30
And at the door, too, like a post with packets.
By holy Mary, Butts, there’s knavery!
Let ’em alone, and draw the curtain close:
We shall hear more anon.
A council table brought in with chairs and stools and placed
under the state. Enter Lord CHANCELLOR, places himself at
the upper end of the table, on the left hand; a seat being left
void above him, as for Canterbury’s seat. Duke of
SUFFOLK, Duke of NORFOLK, SURREY, Lord
CHAMBERLAIN, GARDINER seat themselves in order on each
side; CROMWELL at lower end, as secretary.
CHANCELLOR     Speak to the business, master secretary.	35
Why are we met in Council?
CROMWELL     Please your honours,
The chief cause concerns his grace of Canterbury.
GARDINER     Has he had knowledge of it?
CROMWELL   Yes.
NORFOLK     Who waits there?
KEEPER        Without, my noble lords?
GARDINER    Yes.
KEEPER          My lord Archbishop,
And has done half an hour to know your pleasures.	40
CHANCELLOR     Let him come in.
KEEPER     Your grace may enter now.
[Cranmer approaches the council table.]
CHANCELLOR
My good lord Archbishop, I’m very sorry
To sit here at this present and behold
That chair stand empty. But we all are men,
In our own natures frail, and capable	45
Of our flesh – few are angels – out of which frailty
And want of wisdom, you that best should teach us
Have misdemeaned yourself, and not a little,
Toward the King first, then his laws, in filling
The whole realm, by your teaching and your chaplains’ –	50
For so we are informed – with new opinions,
Diverse and dangerous, which are heresies
And, not reformed, may prove pernicious.
GARDINER     Which reformation must be sudden too,
My noble lords, for those that tame wild horses	55
Pace ’em not in their hands to make ’em gentle,
But stop their mouths with stubborn bits and spur ’em
Till they obey the manage. If we suffer,
Out of our easiness and childish pity
To one man’s honour, this contagious sickness,	60
Farewell, all physic. And what follows then?
Commotions, uproars, with a general taint
Of the whole state, as of late days our neighbours,
The upper Germany, can dearly witness,
Yet freshly pitied in our memories.	65
CRANMER     My good lords, hitherto, in all the progress
Both of my life and office, I have laboured,
And with no little study, that my teaching
And the strong course of my authority
Might go one way, and safely; and the end	70
Was ever to do well. Nor is there living –
I speak it with a single heart, my lords –
A man that more detests, more stirs against,
Both in his private conscience and his place,
Defacers of a public peace than I do.	75
Pray heaven the King may never find a heart
With less allegiance in it. Men that make
Envy and crooked malice nourishment
Dare bite the best. I do beseech your lordships
That in this case, of justice, my accusers,	80
Be what they will, may stand forth face to face
And freely urge against me.
SUFFOLK     Nay, my lord,
That cannot be. You are a Councillor,
And by that virtue no man dare accuse you.
GARDINER
My lord, because we have business of more moment,	85
We will be short with you. ’Tis his highness’ pleasure
And our consent, for better trial of you,
From hence you be committed to the Tower,
Where, being but a private man again,
You shall know many dare accuse you boldly –	90
More than, I fear, you are provided for.
CRANMER
Ah, my good lord of Winchester, I thank you;
You are always my good friend. If your will pass,
I shall both find your lordship judge and juror,
You are so merciful. I see your end:	95
’Tis my undoing. Love and meekness, lord,
Become a churchman better than ambition.
Win straying souls with modesty again;
Cast none away. That I shall clear myself,
Lay all the weight ye can upon my patience,	100
I make as little doubt as you do conscience
In doing daily wrongs. I could say more,
But reverence to your calling makes me modest.
GARDINER     My lord, my lord, you are a sectary.
That’s the plain truth. Your painted gloss discovers,	105
To men that understand you, words and weakness.
CROMWELL     My lord of Winchester, you’re a little,
By your good favour, too sharp. Men so noble,
However faulty, yet should find respect
For what they have been. ’Tis a cruelty	110
To load a falling man.
GARDINER     Good master secretary,
I cry your honour mercy: you may worst
Of all this table say so.
CROMWELL     Why, my lord?
GARDINER     Do not I know you for a favourer
Of this new sect? Ye are not sound.
CROMWELL     Not sound?	115
GARDINER     Not sound, I say.
CROMWELL     Would you were half so honest!
Men’s prayers then would seek you, not their fears.
GARDINER     I shall remember this bold language.
CROMWELL     Do.
Remember your bold life, too.
CHANCELLOR     This is too much.
Forbear, for shame, my lords.
GARDINER     I have done.
CROMWELL     And I.	120
CHANCELLOR [to Cranmer]
Then thus for you, my lord. It stands agreed,
I take it, by all voices, that forthwith
You be conveyed to th’ Tower a prisoner,
There to remain till the King’s further pleasure
Be known unto us. Are you all agreed, lords?	125
ALL     We are.
CRANMER     Is there no other way of mercy
But I must needs to th’ Tower, my lords?
GARDINER     What other
Would you expect? You are strangely troublesome.
Let some o’th’ guard be ready there.
Enter the guard.
CRANMER     For me?
Must I go like a traitor thither?
GARDINER     Receive him,	130
And see him safe i’th’ Tower.
CRANMER     Stay, good my lords,
I have a little yet to say. Look there, my lords.
By virtue of that ring, I take my cause
Out of the gripes of cruel men and give it
To a most noble judge, the King my master.	135
CHANCELLOR     This is the King’s ring.
SURREY     ’Tis no counterfeit.
SUFFOLK     ’Tis the right ring, by heaven. I told ye all,
When we first put this dangerous stone a-rolling,
’Twould fall upon ourselves.
NORFOLK     Do you think, my lords,
The King will suffer but the little finger	140
Of this man to be vexed?
CHAMBERLAIN     ’Tis now too certain.
How much more is his life in value with him?
Would I were fairly out on’t.
CROMWELL     My mind gave me,
In seeking tales and informations
Against this man, whose honesty the devil	145
And his disciples only envy at,
Ye blew the fire that burns ye. Now have at ye!
Enter KING, frowning on them. He takes his seat.
GARDINER
Dread sovereign, how much are we bound to heaven
In daily thanks, that gave us such a prince,
Not only good and wise but most religious;	150
One that, in all obedience, makes the Church
The chief aim of his honour and, to strengthen
That holy duty out of dear respect,
His royal self in judgement comes to hear
The cause betwixt her and this great offender.	155
KING     You were ever good at sudden commendations,
Bishop of Winchester, but know I come not
To hear such flattery now, and in my presence
They are too thin and bare to hide offences.
To me you cannot reach, you play the spaniel	160
And think with wagging of your tongue to win me.
But whatsoe’er thou takest me for, I’m sure
Thou hast a cruel nature and a bloody.
[to Cranmer] Good man, sit down. Now let me see the proudest –
He that dares most – but wag his finger at thee.	165
By all that’s holy, he had better starve,
Than but once think his place becomes thee not.
SURREY     May it please your grace –
KING     No, sir, it does not please me.
I had thought I had had men of some understanding
And wisdom of my Council, but I find none.	170
Was it discretion, lords, to let this man,
This good man – few of you deserve that title –
This honest man, wait like a lousy footboy
At chamber door? And one as great as you are?
Why, what a shame was this! Did my commission	175
Bid ye so far forget yourselves? I gave ye
Power as he was a Councillor to try him,
Not as a groom. There’s some of ye, I see,
More out of malice than integrity,
Would try him to the utmost, had ye mean,	180
Which ye shall never have while I live.
CHANCELLOR     Thus far,
My most dread sovereign, may it like your grace
To let my tongue excuse all. What was purposed
Concerning his imprisonment was rather –
If there be faith in men – meant for his trial	185
And fair purgation to the world than malice,
I’m sure, in me.
KING     Well, well, my lords, respect him.
Take him, and use him well: he’s worthy of it.
I will say thus much for him: if a prince
May be beholding to a subject, I	190
Am, for his love and service, so to him.
Make me no more ado, but all embrace him.
Be friends, for shame, my lords! My lord of Canterbury,
I have a suit which you must not deny me:
That is, a fair young maid that yet wants baptism.	195
You must be godfather and answer for her.
CRANMER     The greatest monarch now alive may glory
In such an honour. How may I deserve it,
That am a poor and humble subject to you?
KING     Come, come, my lord, you’d spare your spoons!	200
You shall have two noble partners with you: the old
Duchess of Norfolk and Lady Marquess Dorset. Will
these please you?
Once more, my lord of Winchester, I charge you
Embrace and love this man.
GARDINER     With a true heart	205
And brother’s love I do it.
CRANMER     And let heaven
Witness how dear I hold this confirmation.
KING
Good man, those joyful tears show thy true heart.
The common voice, I see, is verified
Of thee, which says thus: ‘Do my lord of Canterbury	210
A shrewd turn, and he’s your friend forever.’
Come, lords, we trifle time away. I long
To have this young one made a Christian.
As I have made ye one, lords, one remain:
So I grow stronger, you more honour gain.     Exeunt.	215

5.3 Noise and tumult within. Enter Porter and his Man.

PORTER     You’ll leave your noise anon, ye rascals. Do you
take the court for Parish Garden? Ye rude slaves, leave
your gaping.
ONE [within]     Good master porter, I belong to th’ larder.
PORTER     Belong to th’ gallows, and be hanged, ye rogue! Is	5
this a place to roar in? Fetch me a dozen crab-tree staves,
and strong ones: these are but switches to ’em. I’ll
scratch your heads. You must be seeing christenings? Do
you look for ale and cakes here, you rude rascals?
MAN     Pray, sir, be patient. ’Tis as much impossible,	10
Unless we sweep ’em from the door with cannons,
To scatter ’em as ’tis to make ’em sleep
On May-day morning – which will never be.
We may as well push against Paul’s as stir ’em.
PORTER     How got they in, and be hanged?	15
MAN     Alas, I know not. How gets the tide in?
As much as one sound cudgel of four foot –
You see the poor remainder – could distribute,
I made no spare, sir.
PORTER     You did nothing, sir.
MAN     I am not Samson, nor Sir Guy, nor Colbrand,	20
To mow ’em down before me; but if I spared any
That had a head to hit, either young or old,
He or she, cuckold or cuckold-maker,
Let me ne’er hope to see a chine again –
And that I would not for a cow, God save her!	25
ONE [within]     Do you hear, master porter?
PORTER
I shall be with you presently, good master puppy.
[to his Man] Keep the door close, sirrah.
MAN     What would you have me do?
PORTER     What should you do, but knock ’em down by	30
th’ dozens? Is this Moorfields to muster in? Or have
we some strange Indian with the great tool come to
court, the women so besiege us? Bless me, what a fry
of fornication is at door! On my Christian conscience,
this one christening will beget a thousand: here will be	35
father, godfather, and all together.
MAN     The spoons will be the bigger, sir. There is a fellow
somewhat near the door – he should be a brazier by his
face, for, o’my conscience, twenty of the dog-days now
reign in’s nose. All that stand about him are under the	40
line: they need no other penance. That fire-drake did I
hit three times on the head, and three times was his
nose discharged against me. He stands there like a
mortar-piece, to blow us. There was a haberdasher’s
wife of small wit near him that railed upon me till her	45
pinked porringer fell off her head for kindling such a
combustion in the state. I missed the meteor once and
hit that woman, who cried out ‘Clubs!’, when I might
see from far some forty truncheoners draw to her
succour, which were the hope o’th’ Strand, where she	50
was quartered. They fell on; I made good my place; at
length they came to th’ broomstaff to me; I defied ’em
still, when suddenly a file of boys behind ’em, loose
shot, delivered such a shower of pebbles that I was fain
to draw mine honour in and let ’em win the work. The	55
devil was amongst ’em, I think, surely.
PORTER     These are the youths that thunder at a
playhouse and fight for bitten apples, that no audience
but the ‘Tribulation’ of Tower Hill or the ‘Limbs’ of
Limehouse, their dear brothers, are able to endure. I	60
have some of ’em in Limbo Patrum – and there they are
like to dance these three days – besides the running
banquet of two beadles that is to come.
Enter Lord CHAMBERLAIN.
CHAMBERLAIN     Mercy o’me, what a multitude are here!
They grow still, too. From all parts they are coming,	65
As if we kept a fair here! Where are these porters,
These lazy knaves? You’ve made a fine hand, fellows!
There’s a trim rabble let in! Are all these
Your faithful friends o’th’ suburbs? We shall have
Great store of room, no doubt, left for the ladies,	70
When they pass back from the christening.
PORTER     An’t please your honour,
We are but men, and what so many may do,
Not being torn a-pieces, we have done:
An army cannot rule ’em.
CHAMBERLAIN     As I live,
If the King blame me for’t, I’ll lay ye all	75
By th’ heels, and suddenly, and on your heads
Clap round fines for neglect. You’re lazy knaves,
And here ye lie, baiting of bombards, when
Ye should do service. Hark, the trumpets sound:
They’re come already from the christening.	80
Go break among the press and find a way out
To let the troop pass fairly, or I’ll find
A Marshalsea shall hold ye play these two months.
PORTER     Make way there for the Princess!
MAN     You, great fellow,
Stand close up, or I’ll make your head ache!	85
PORTER     You i’th’ chamblet, get up o’th’ rail –
I’ll peck you o’er the pales else.     Exeunt.

5.4 Enter trumpets sounding; then two aldermen, Lord Mayor, GARTER, CRANMER, Duke of NORFOLK with his marshal’s staff, Duke of SUFFOLK, two noblemen bearing great standing bowls for the christening gifts; then four noblemen bearing a canopy, under which the Duchess of Norfolk, godmother, bearing the child richly habited in a mantle, etc., train borne by a lady; then follows the Marchioness Dorset, the other godmother, and ladies. The troop pass once about the stage, and Garter speaks.

GARTER     Heaven, from thy endless goodness, send
prosperous life, long and ever happy, to the high and
mighty Princess of England, Elizabeth.
Flourish. Enter KING and guard.
CRANMER [Kneels.]
And to your royal grace and the good Queen,
My noble partners and myself thus pray	5
All comfort, joy, in this most gracious lady
Heaven ever laid up to make parents happy
May hourly fall upon ye.
KING     Thank you, good lord Archbishop.
What is her name?
CRANMER     Elizabeth.
KING     Stand up, lord.
[to the child] With this kiss, take my blessing. God protect thee,	10
Into whose hand I give thy life.
CRANMER     Amen.
KING     My noble gossips, you’ve been too prodigal.
I thank ye heartily: so shall this lady,
When she has so much English.
CRANMER     Let me speak, sir,
For heaven now bids me; and the words I utter	15
Let none think flattery, for they’ll find ’em truth.
This royal infant – heaven still move about her –
Though in her cradle, yet now promises
Upon this land a thousand thousand blessings,
Which time shall bring to ripeness. She shall be –	20
But few now living can behold that goodness –
A pattern to all princes living with her
And all that shall succeed. Saba was never
More covetous of wisdom and fair virtue
Than this pure soul shall be. All princely graces	25
That mould up such a mighty piece as this is,
With all the virtues that attend the good,
Shall still be doubled on her. Truth shall nurse her;
Holy and heavenly thoughts still counsel her.
She shall be loved and feared. Her own shall bless her;	30
Her foes shake like a field of beaten corn,
And hang their heads with sorrow. Good grows with her.
In her days, every man shall eat in safety
Under his own vine what he plants, and sing
The merry songs of peace to all his neighbours.	35
God shall be truly known, and those about her
From her shall read the perfect ways of honour
And by those claim their greatness, not by blood.
Nor shall this peace sleep with her, but as when
The bird of wonder dies, the maiden phoenix,	40
Her ashes new create another heir
As great in admiration as herself,
So shall she leave her blessedness to one,
When heaven shall call her from this cloud of darkness,
Who from the sacred ashes of her honour	45
Shall star-like rise as great in fame as she was
And so stand fixed. Peace, plenty, love, truth, terror,
That were the servants to this chosen infant,
Shall then be his, and like a vine grow to him.
Wherever the bright sun of heaven shall shine,	50
His honour and the greatness of his name
Shall be, and make new nations. He shall flourish,
And, like a mountain cedar, reach his branches
To all the plains about him. Our children’s children
Shall see this and bless heaven.
KING     Thou speakest wonders.	55
CRANMER     She shall be to the happiness of England
An aged princess. Many days shall see her,
And yet no day without a deed to crown it.
Would I had known no more. But she must die:
She must, the saints must have her. Yet a virgin,	60
A most unspotted lily, shall she pass to th’ ground,
And all the world shall mourn her.
KING     O lord Archbishop,
Thou hast made me now a man. Never before
This happy child did I get anything.
This oracle of comfort has so pleased me	65
That when I am in heaven I shall desire
To see what this child does and praise my maker.
I thank ye all. To you, my good Lord Mayor,
And your good brethren, I am much beholding:
I have received much honour by your presence,	70
And ye shall find me thankful. Lead the way, lords:
Ye must all see the Queen, and she must thank ye –
She will be sick else. This day, no man think
’Has business at his house, for all shall stay:
This little one shall make it holiday.     Exeunt.	75
Enter EPILOGUE.
EPILOGUE     ’Tis ten to one this play can never please
All that are here. Some come to take their ease,
And sleep an act or two (but those, we fear,
We’ve frighted with our trumpets, so ’tis clear
They’ll say ’tis naught), others to hear the city	5
Abused extremely and to cry ‘That’s witty!’
(Which we have not done neither), that I fear
All the expected good we’re like to hear
For this play at this time is only in
The merciful construction of good women,	10
For such a one we showed ’em. If they smile
And say ’twill do, I know within a while
All the best men are ours – for ’tis ill hap
If they hold when their ladies bid ’em clap.     Exit.